A Memorable Year

Hi Everyone,

It’s been another memorable year for Tastes Like Home. It was often the simple things that evoked the most memories. In reading the comments and messages sent by readers, it was a reminder, yet again about the power of food and how it connects us. Most peoples’ recollections were not about the eating of food itself but about the bonding and the shared experiences.

It seems fitting then, given that this is the last column for 2013 to highlight the top 10 columns that resonated the most with many of you – at home and abroad, in one way or another. The responses referred to in this column were all sent in via emails. For all the “openness” many people still prefer to communicate in a private, one-to-one manner. It is something that I appreciate as it allows for connection and communication on a deeper level.

Here they are in no particular order.

Limiting Ourselves

This column discussed being close-minded about ingredients and food in general, but I made a larger point by arguing that this attitude towards limiting ourselves is not only related to food but also to other spheres in our lives. I stressed the that the world already sets limits on us by the colour of our skin, the texture of our hair, our religion, class and the passport we carry, why then do we want to shackle ourselves when we have the chance to grow?

This column clearly hit a nerve because my inbox was flooded with messages explaining a variety of situations and scenarios in which people were frustrated with their family, loved ones and friends for limiting themselves. None of the responses to this column were related to food. It was all about an attitude to life.

Life is about living and not merely existing. How often have we not heard people say of others, “If I had half the intellect, talent he/she has, I would…” Let’s open our minds and expand our horizons. We can start by being willing to see things from someone else’s point of view.

This Thing Called Bakes

I’ve often said that my column here is a conversation. It is a medium through which many issues can be raised for engagement.

In This Thing Called Bakes, with the assistance of the brilliant poet and author, Austin Clarke, we looked at how ingredients when cooked can be reflective of a person’s status in society. Using bakes as an example, we saw that the better the ingredients, like butter, eggs and baking powder, the bakes made by people of a particular class, were lighter and had a superior texture, compared to bakes made by the working class which consisted of only water, flour and a little sugar.

In your emails responding to this column, so many of you reminisced about your parents and grandparents and their ability to make-do. Many folks remarked that columns like this one highlighted how important it was for us to capture our personal food histories. I agree with this wholeheartedly, it is one of the reasons I write this column and why I enjoy hearing from each of you.

The Magic Tree

The “magic tree” refers to the Saijan tree. The focus of the column was to extol the virtues of the tree and to act as a reminder of the many great things we already have right here in our backyards.

Most of the feedback I received was from people outside of the region involved in projects around the world, growing the Moringa (Saijan) tree to help in the fight against

malnutrition. They were most appreciative of the information being shared so that more people can become involved and aware.

A Serious Miss – Eating at German’s

I dared to speak my mind and for that the personal onslaught was vicious. Social media, particularly Facebook was rife with attacks. What was particularly alarming is that many people missed the point of the column. People did not address the issues raised in the column.

I dared to say that in a country redolent with fresh vegetables that I want to eat fresh vegetables rather than the canned variety that helps to drive up a food-import bill. I dared to say that in a country that manufactures chowmein noodles that I want to eat the advertised chowmein noodles rather than pasta.

Arrogant About Fish Cakes

There is something about fish cakes that gets under people’s skin, in a good way, I think. This column set out to explain how passionately we are about our fish cakes and to give a little background to its origins. Equally famous and highlighted were the fritter-style fish cakes of Trinidad & Tobago, Jamaica, Barbados and the Eastern Caribbean islands.

In my newsletter, following this column, I had shared recipes for a variety of fish cakes. It was the most requested recipe outside of the regular subscribers. And people had lots of stories to tell of the fish cakes their grandmothers and mothers used to make.

Fluffy Stuffed Duff

It is very difficult to say no to a stuffed dumpling of any kind especially when it is a Caribbean-style big dumpling/duff. This edition of the column was a friendly admonishment to those who have for years enjoyed the delights of a stuffed-duff but never sought to share this bit of food perfection with me.

The debate among the responses I received was: to fry or not to fry the duff after it had been stuffed and cooked. The fryers won the argument, at least when it came to taste. The browning of the duff, more like toasting, really made a difference in the texture and the brown, crusty parts reminiscent of eating toast.

Another dimension to the debate was what’s the best thing with which to stuff the duff. The top contenders were obvious – salt fish, smoked herring and minced beef. The vegetarians felt left out.

Tender Liver, Sweet Onions

This was a celebration of a particular type of Sunday-morning breakfast – stewed liver and onions with bread. I would have happily traded my mom’s Sunday morning offerings of sautéed eggplant (baigan) and potatoes with onions and tomatoes for some liver and onions. Alas, I grew up in a time when you ate what was put in front of you. No regrets on my part.

The conversation about this column quickly turned to the various types of liver one can use to make a pan of liver and onions. It was an education. And many shared stories about their own Sunday morning breakfast routines while growing up.

Missing My Milo

This column was my public goodbye to eating and drinking Milo because it triggers my migraines.

I received many stories about drinking Milo! We talked about the things our parents convinced us were truths not to be messed with like drinking Milo only at nights! We were all equally aghast that the makers of Milo would dare to do away with the granules. I have to say, there is a strong legion of Milo drinkers out there!

Buttery Buttons of Cookies

This column followed on the crumbs left the previous week from my column about Shortbread Butter Cookies that I had made for my friends Errol & Paula.

The family of the late Urmia Cummings had shared with me her recipe for what she called Teatime Cookies and it was featured in Buttery Buttons of Cookies.

Just the mention of Mrs Cummings’ name had alums from St. Roses High School talking about her, neighbours and friends too, all sharing wonderful memories. Clearly Mrs. Cummings was well loved and respected and touched the lives of many Guyanese who now live all over the world.

A Sweet Memory

This was a very special column for me when I wrote it in June and now it is more special and will always be. In it I shared a childhood memory of helping my aunt and her daughter, Shanti in the kitchen when they made roti for dinner. It was my introduction to “sugar roti” (roti stuffed with sugar that melted when cooked).

Many had never heard of such a roti but a few certainly had and suddenly felt a yearning to eat a hot, syrupy sugar roti.

What makes this column stand out for me is that after writing it, a month later, my dearly beloved Shanti was taken from us. For me, the grief is too near and the wound raw. I know that she is among the angels in heaven and I pray that I can live my life here on earth in such a manner that I may one day be blessed to see her.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for sharing. Thanks for coming back for more.

Happy New Year!

Cynthia

Cynthia@tasteslikehome.org

www.tasteslikehome.org